


A HAIRY DILEMMA

by Tozette



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alien Biology, M/M, Vile Smut, brief warning for Hojo, prehensile hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-02 17:44:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6576244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tozette/pseuds/Tozette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenova isn’t just non-human, she’s not even from Gaia. Sephiroth has some weird throwbacks to her alien genetics. Weird, sexy throwbacks. Weird, sexy throwbacks that are very interested in Genesis.</p><p>* * *</p><p>There was a moment’s silence.</p><p>Then: “Your hair owes me a new belt,” said Genesis, drawing his attention back. He was running his fingers down the front of Sephiroth’s coat, deftly pulling apart the buckles and straps as he went. </p><p>“Now kiss me,” he demanded imperiously, shaking his own hair back from his face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the anonymous tumblr prompt: "Sephiroth's hair and sexytimes XD". It occurred to me about three thousand words in that anon may well not have been interested in prehensile hair sex. Well, anon, you _should have been more specific_ , shouldn't you?

It was a weird truth that most people didn't actually feel with their hair. It took Sephiroth actual years to figure this out - and when he did he was small and stupid and he made the mistake of mentioning it to one of the less obviously awful lab assistants.

Hojo knew before nightfall, and Sephiroth learnt a great many things that year. Human hair didn't bleed, either. Sephiroth's did, minuscule drops on his skin, his pillow, the tables in the lab.

"On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you've ever felt and one being a paper cut-"

Sephiroth didn't enjoy the tests, and neither did Hojo, because Hojo considered qualitative data beneath him.

They tested against controls, eventually. They were thorough: brain activity, blood drawn, galvanic skin response, blood pressure, heart rate - nice, quantitative measures. By the time they were done trimming his hair, Sephiroth was white-faced and gasping; the controls had lost consciousness.

He got a look at one human subject's hands. They'd found a way to replicate Sephiroth's responses, leaving haphazardly cauterised stumps where his fingers had been.

Hojo determined that his hair was not, in fact, a weapon. "Some kind of secondary sensory organ," he said dismissively at last, almost annoyed to have wasted so much time on it. "Possibly of some use in pair bonding or communication..." There was some murmuring about Jenova - Sephiroth's mother, he knew that much - and the value of a second specimen, but nothing came of it.

Hojo's interest in Sephiroth's pain responses tapered off after he was seven or eight - then it just mattered that he didn't let them interfere with anything more important.

Which was everything.

So he didn't.

Even in Wutai, nobody really noticed. It was rare that anybody sliced his hair, but on the odd occasion - usually an occasion featuring a shrapnel bomb, which Sephiroth quickly grew to detest - any blood was attributed to an opponent.

It didn't tangle. It didn't catch. His hair was silky and slippery and alive. He didn't even brush it, and it never seemed to make a difference. At twelve he decided there was no need to trim it for convenience. The President seemed to like the image he presented, anyway: tall and too-young, a prodigy with hair like a war banner; a brazen challenge to all comers.

It suited the image that President Shinra wished the company to project.

That was lucky. Sephiroth really didn't like the hair cuts.

Fifteen, seventeen - years and war and so many more important things to think of. Sephiroth made it into and most of the way through puberty with surprising grace. Hojo took it as a confirmation of his personal superiority, but the endless experiments of childhood were more or less behind them. Sephiroth had fortnightly lab appointments, mostly blood tests, check ups, skills and reflex assessments and mako infusions that might have killed somebody more human. Mundane stuff.

Genesis thought the hair was vanity. Sephiroth didn't think to disabuse him of the idea, although perhaps he should have. His friend's ego made a game of it, and Sephiroth's long, shining hair was a valuable target in their bouts.

"You could tie it up," Angeal suggested once, prosaically.

"I could," he agreed. That sounded... painful. Or at least deeply uncomfortable.

"Or cut it," Angeal tried, and Sephiroth glanced at Angeal. Shorn hair, out of the way. It wasn't quite unsettling, exactly - Sephiroth did know that there was no feeling there. He did. But he couldn't shift the idea from a vague intellectual knowledge to a proper understanding. It just... looked painful.

He didn't like to think of Angeal hurting himself like that. It was a strong enough dislike that it surprised him. He paused.

"I'd rather not."

Angeal shrugged.

Genesis continued to call him on his vanity.

It wasn't like the hair hurt all the time or anything. Most of the time he didn't even think about it, just as he didn't think often about his ears or his tongue. They were there, but it was a peripheral awareness he took for granted.

Nobody really touched Sephiroth, either, excepting laboratory staff. He could walk through a crowded corridor and people would flatten themselves to the walls to avoid accidentally touching - and potentially offending. The Turks were more subtle but no less deliberate.

He was very unused to touch. A lot of his time was spent actively _avoiding_ touch, since it usually came with a sword or a gun in hand - and when it didn't, it was often Hojo. Which was almost as bad.

President Shinra clapped him on the shoulder once. Only once.

It was after a meeting, under the boardroom lights and right beside a long dark table, and he reached out in a way that was all very _good-job-soldier-excellent-work-representing-our-interests_ and settled a hand firmly upon Sephiroth's shoulder, fingers buried in his hair.

It happened so fast he wasn't even sure what it felt like - just sudden, and... a lot. Intense. Too much.

And then: "If you could release the President's arm," Veld was saying, mild and calm, and Sephiroth wasn't actually sure when he'd moved but-

That was definitely his hand, though. Squeezing, gently for him, but the President's face was going white as he did it.

Oh. He released him. His fingers flexed uncertainly.

He glanced at the President's face. Flushed, confused, a little angry - angry was bad news.

"I-" he stopped.

"The reflexes of war," Veld concocted smoothly. "Perhaps some time away from the front would do you good."

His expression was bland, perfectly unassuming, but Sephiroth was fairly certain he wasn't buying his own excuse.

Veld's Turks seemed to linger around more often than usual after that. Sephiroth didn't actually mind too much - being constantly watched was no new experience for him, and the Turks were quiet and unobtrusive. They were easier to deal with than most lab assistants.

"Your _hair_?" Angeal said incredulously later that week, upon receiving notice that Sephiroth's upcoming Wutai deployment had been transferred to Genesis due to his pressing need for leave. "You didn't."

Sephiroth shook his head. He could still feel the ghost of that touch upon his hair, sweaty and hot and - unwelcome. He didn't know what to say or how to explain. So he didn't.

"It's done; there's no changing it now." Genesis didn't seem to mind, at least; there was more glory to be had in Wutai than Midgar, and Sephiroth wished him the joy of it. "The arrow has left the bow of the Goddess," he informed them philosophically.

(Sephiroth did not understand.

If Genesis's metaphor was comparing President Shinra to the Goddess then understanding was likely not an advantage. To to be honest, uncomprehending stares never stopped Genesis once he was in full voice anyway.)

Sephiroth got a psychiatric assessment from one too-fascinated doctor. He was fine.

It blew over.

The President never touched him again, though.

* * *

 

A sixty hour stint on the front was enough to knock even Sephiroth on his butt. He was starting to make mistakes, forget crucial but small details.

One last push, one last battlefield slaughter - and then even if the war wasn't over, Sephiroth's command had to be, or he'd start throwing away troops. Shinra probably wouldn't mind, but he would, for pride's sake if nothing else.

He handed command off to Angeal and his overeager Second Class shadow, and then returned to camp stinging from a hundred small injuries: minor cuts and abrasions, overworked joints - little things. They healed quickly, of course, but no amount of enhancement or partial inhumanity could compensate for actual exhaustion.

His tent was somewhere in the middle, easily accessible for anyone who needed to contact him. There was a bed there, along with a table stacked with maps and troop movement reports and minutiae. The furniture in a semi-permanent camp like this one was all steel-framed, durable and collapsible.

Sephiroth slumped face down onto the 'bed' in his tent. The perimeter was secure. Angeal had command. Genesis was prowling around somewhere, gleefully terrifying troopers. It might have been daylight outside, but Sephiroth was safe among his own troops and there was no better inducement to sleep.

He woke barely an hour later because Genesis was somehow in his tent, pulling off his boots. "-sure sign that you don't remember how sleep works," he was muttering.

Sephiroth grunted. His back hurt. Weird. He let Genesis pull the other boot off and instead reached behind himself to see what had -

His fingers touched cold metal. He did remember a shrapnel bomb. Vaguely.

Genesis batted his hand away. "That needs to come out before you heal over it completely."

Sephiroth grunted again. Unpleasant. His voice, when he spoke, came out rough and low and weary: "Do it."

Genesis made an annoyed sound. It was probably more due to being ordered than any distaste for the task itself.

But after a moment, he swept Sephiroth's hair out of the way with one hand.

For a second he could feel every bit of Genesis's skin with excruciating accuracy and detail. Fine, fine fingers, strong bones, scars and nicks on his hands, calluses -

Sephiroth's skin prickled from his skull all the way down to the base of his spine. He twitched. That was - something.

"Does it hurt that much?"

Sephiroth hesitated to answer. Even if it had, the quantities of anaesthetic needed to numb his skin weren't worth wasting.

"No. Do it."

Genesis's fingers probed the area carefully for a moment. Sephiroth breathed and tried to relax. Then there was one swift movement and a painful wrench that made his eyes water. Something made a wet, ripping noise.

"There," said Genesis, and Sephiroth breathed and blinked. His back was wet. Blood. It always seemed curious how it settled at body temperature, almost unnoticed.

Genesis's long fingers probed the area, checking for other foreign bodies - bits that had come off or gotten stuck. After a moment he made a hum of satisfaction and withdrew, and there was the rustle of cloth that suggested he was wiping his fingers. "That's it."

The pain lingered, but knowing it would fade in a few hours was enough to make it tolerable. At least the enhancements would take care of any infection. Sephiroth had never had one, but he'd seen them. They looked... unpleasant.

"Thank you," he sighed finally. He blinked, and didn't manage to open his eyes again for a long few seconds. He was tired.

Genesis's touch traced thoughtfully over his back. It was unnecessary, and Sephiroth did not know quite why he was doing it. It was just fingers applying soft pressure to the skin on his shoulders, trailing only lightly past the tender areas so as not to disturb them.

It felt... strange. Confusing. Not unpleasant, no, but it was like all of his awareness drifted to follow the lead of Genesis's hand.

He stopped, and Sephiroth immediately missed it. Did that mean it was pleasant? He made a questioning noise, too tired for actually generating words.

"Sleep," Genesis told him. Then he reached over and drew Sephiroth's hair back into place. He ran his fingers through it, just once, settling the silky mess back upon his back.

That touch set Sephiroth's entire nervous system alight. He shuddered and tingled and _ohh._ He stretched under Genesis's hand, huge, lean-muscled and catlike, and exhaled a deep sigh.

It was not... It did not feel the same way it had felt with Shinra, or ever in the labs. It was _so_ different.

Genesis paused with his fingers still buried in Sephiroth's hair.

"Sephiroth."

Sephiroth grunted. He was possibly more relaxed than he'd ever been in his life.

There was a thread of threat and caution in his voice then: "Let go."

Which made no sense, because Sephiroth's hands were on the semi-clean outside of his bedroll. Except -

Well, he was touching Genesis. Somehow. The awareness was hard to pinpoint, but he could feel the steady _ba-thump_ of his pulse inside his skull. He knew Genesis's skin was warm because he could feel it somehow.

Brows furrowing, Sephiroth turned his head and saw a thin tail of long hair wrapped around Genesis' wrist. It was not letting go.

He peered at it in confusion. It hadn't done that before. He hadn't known it _could_ do that.

"I don't know how," he admitted.

Genesis used his other hand to tug at the hair. It did not give, but it did make Sephiroth shiver.

After a second of blinking at nothing, he levered himself up, reached out and untangled it from Genesis's wrist manually - and just like that it came easily, so much less sensitive to Sephiroth's own touch, and fell away like it had never happened.

"Interesting," said Genesis, rubbing his wrist curiously. "Is this why you keep it long?"

Sephiroth was going to answer, but he was abruptly aware that he could smell him - to a greater degree than his enhanced senses would usually have allowed him. The smoke in his hair and the blood on the soles of his boots took a serious back seat to the smell of Genesis's sweat, which was - salt, warm; heady and masculine.

Odd. He couldn't tell if it was good or bad or neither. He inhaled again, swaying closer.

Genesis eyed him thoughtfully. But in the end, he just said, "Get some sleep," before he rose and headed back out. The tent flap dropped behind him.

Sephiroth blinked in the sudden clarity of his absence. His back hurt. His scalp was tingly. He rolled back onto his face, feeling the ugly pull of his injured back as he did it.

Wutai, he thought, was weirdly good for Genesis, at least inasmuch as it changed his behaviour. The slaughter mellowed him, made him value his own comrades more.

Sephiroth avoided thinking about the hair thing.

* * *

 

Sephiroth was definitely thinking about the hair thing.

He thought about President Shinra's sweating hand with a weird shiver of revulsion, and about the soft _snick-snip_ of scissors and the overhead lights of Hojo's lab. Both of them made him deeply uncomfortable.

Genesis's touch had been different, but he was still incredibly uncomfortable. It was... just a different kind of uncomfortable - a kind of uncomfortable he didn't really recognise or understand.

He _could not stop_ thinking about Genesis's hands. Worse still, every time he did, his hair shifted restlessly behind him, like it was caught in the wind and fluttering gently.

It was not caught in the wind. It just - moved. On its own.

It was even worse when he was standing next to Genesis - which was often, since they tended to end up at the same briefings - because he could feel the weight of his hair shift, tugging gently on his balance. It was like a disobedient pet.

He couldn't move it on his own.

He'd _tried_.

Were Hojo moderately less vile, this was ideally the sort of issue he'd have taken to him - Hojo was his father, his creator. If anybody knew what this might indicate, he would. Naturally, Sephiroth avoided him even more than usual, convinced that somehow Hojo's inborn genius would _notice_.

He remembered, vaguely, a comment about _pair bonding or communication,_ and took to self-consciously touching his hair at odd moments. If anybody noticed, nobody said anything.

He knew when Genesis challenged him to a bout - a friendly one, although he was sure they'd never admit that - in the VR Room after the Seconds had left it for the day that it was not a good idea.

He did it anyway.

At first it was such a relief. Genesis and Angeal were the only people on the planet with whom Sephiroth could fight without being terribly, terribly careful. Angeal fought friendly spars like they were just that - _friendly_.

Genesis, though. Genesis was absolutely vicious in a fight.

There was a very real chance of being set on fire.

Of course, thirty minutes later found them crashed to the floor and hopelessly tangled.

"This does not happen with anybody else," Genesis said with confidence, laying back while Sephiroth tried to get his hair _out_ of his belt buckle. Usually he could just tug it away, but it was - clinging, or something, even though the touch of the metal wasn't actually that interesting or stimulating.

"No," he agreed. "Just you."

"Angeal?"

He paused. He hadn't seen much of Angeal since this bizarre development. He didn't see why it would, but... "I'm not sure."

Sephiroth tugged harder. A hair snapped. He flinched. Ow.

"Hmm. Infinite in mystery," murmured Genesis, and he reached out one hand and dragged his fingers through Sephiroth's hair, scraping his nails over his scalp.

Sephiroth exhaled, skin shivering gently under the touch, and stilled. "Stop."

Genesis paused, fingers of one hand hovering above Sephiroth's head. "It looks like it feels good," he said mildly.

Did it? Sephiroth's brow furrowed. He thought about that feeling, and it was... threatening, in a way. He didn't like the idea of somebody having the ability to control his physical responses so easily. Not even Genesis.

Maybe especially not Genesis.

But when it happened, he wanted more of it. He hesitated, thinking about _communication and pair bonding._ Was that so bad? Genesis was a friend - he and Angeal were the only ones, really.

"...I think so," he admitted slowly, hands stilling.

He shivered when Genesis reached for his hair again, sinking his hands into the shining fall of it, combing it with his fingers.

Sephiroth closed his eyes. The touches continued, driving sweet shudders through him. He melted under the attention, let Genesis take the weight of his skull in his hands.

"'I think so'," Genesis mocked quietly, and Sephiroth could hear his smile. "Now," he wondered, "what is it trying to do to _me_?"

"Holding on." Sephiroth blinked slowly. He couldn't have said how he knew that was the case, but it was. Holding on so Sephiroth could feel the texture of his skin, monitor his pulse, and ensure that he _could not get away_.

Genesis was quite plainly not going anywhere. Not even a little bit. He seemed very satisfied by the control he had at this moment, and every time Sephiroth responded positively to his attention his heart rate threatened to skyrocket.

He wrapped a rope of hair around his fist and tugged gently. Sephiroth groaned. Genesis made a delighted noise and reeled him in closer.

"My friend," Genesis said quietly, slow and sweet in his ear. His mouth touched the hair that fell there and his breath was hot on Sephiroth's neck, "Your desire is the bringer of life, the gi-ift- _ah_ ," he broke off when Sephiroth's hands got onto his skin, rumpling his clothing as he shoved it aside.

"We're doing this, then," Genesis said decisively, and he smoothed his hands up Sephiroth's sides, smiling a smug half-smile that Sephiroth could feel against his jaw, and bit his ear - gently, gently, pulling the lobe between his teeth to suck on it.

Sephiroth grunted softly at the sudden wash of feeling. Yes, they were doing this.

There was the sound of metal clattering across the floor, spinning away. He tensed and whipped his head around, looking for the sound.

There was a moment's silence.

Then: "Your hair owes me a new belt," said Genesis, drawing his attention back. He was running his fingers down the front of Sephiroth's coat, deftly pulling apart the buckles and straps as he went.

"Now kiss me," he demanded imperiously, shaking his own hair back from his face.

Sephiroth did, a dry and uncertain press of lips, kind of wondering if this was what he was meant to be doing. Genesis's skin was warm under his hands, though. He looked slender, and he sort of was, with a lean body beneath those broad shoulders, but he was also strong. There was muscle there, corded and tight beneath the skin. It felt glorious under Sephiroth's hands, and he wriggled closer every time Sephiroth caught a sensitive spot, so-

Genesis reached up and dragged his fingers through his hair roughly, pulled Sephiroth in closer. His brain went quiet and his mouth went lax on a sigh. Genesis took the opportunity to lick his lips, then inside, tongue dragging against Sephiroth's.

Oh, thought Sephiroth. All right then. He felt dazed and confused, foggy with sensation. He wanted to rub his face on every inch of Genesis and breathe him in.

Genesis finally shoved his hands under the coat, buckles and straps defeated, and the very first thing he did was scrape his nails down Sephiroth's spine and squeeze his butt. Sephiroth got over his surprise in about half a second and bit Genesis's lips instead.

There was a heavy _thump_ when his coat fell away, shoulder guards falling free with it. Sephiroth was suddenly so much lighter, dressed only in boots and heavy pants and his thick SOLDIER-issue belt.

He slung one of his legs easily over Genesis's and shifted closer, tangling his hands in Genesis's hair. There was some gut-deep instinct that said he wasn't responding right, that Genesis should be arching and squirming against the pull on his hair. Sephiroth shoved the thought away in confusion.

His hair was still reaching toward Genesis, strands twined together into shining ropes, wreathing around them in a flutter of silver as it shifted with a life of its own.

He was starting to sweat. Sephiroth could feel it where his hair was pressed close and clutching at Genesis's skin, and he smelled good - the more Sephiroth pushed him, the more he tried to wrench sounds from him and kiss him and touch everywhere, the better he smelled and the heavier every breath came.

He kissed him harder, dragging their mouths together, tugging on his lower lip with his teeth just to feel the sudden kick in Genesis's heart beat. Genesis responded with great and terrible enthusiasm, hands trailing and exploratory even while he sucked on Sephiroth's tongue and sighed happily.

Sephiroth swallowed. His whole body felt hot, so hot, like he'd stepped outside on a forty degree day. He bit down on Genesis's jaw, scraping his teeth on the edge of bone.

Genesis arched his neck, letting out a soft wanting sigh and pulling him closer. His hands never seemed to leave Sephiroth's hair for very long. He licked a long trail up Genesis's throat, tasting salt skin and something overwhelming - soft, chemical, something he didn't know intellectually but recognised on other level.

 _Good_ , said something curling low in Sephiroth's belly, some forgotten instinct. _Strong._

He was hot. So hot. He couldn't think. He could barely breathe.

_Devour._

He bit down. Genesis gasped, twisting under him, and his hair tightened and tangled around them. That strong body jerked, held fast by his weight braced across Genesis's thighs, and he groaned softly. Sephiroth could feel it when Genesis's pulse skyrocketed, a peculiar mix of fear and heat that made everything bright and sharp around them, and -

 _Devour. Strong. Consume_.

He drew back, panting, confused. What was-?

Genesis looked at him with hazy pale eyes, dishevelled and half dressed with his clothing shoved out of the way and his belt a complete write off. His chest was heaving, ribs expanding with every deep breath.

The bite on his neck was bruising fast. Sephiroth had broken the skin, just. It looked painful, although Genesis was a great distance from complaining.

"What are you _doing_?" he snapped, pulling Sephiroth closer.

Sephiroth was still trying to think past the heat and blissed-out, foggy stupidity he'd sunk beneath. _Consume_ was wrong, had to be wrong, wasn't for this.

Genesis made an impatient noise and slid his hand over Sephiroth's belly, across the hard protective part of the belt, and down to cup his cock through his trousers. "Oh," he said, sounding soft and wondering.

Experimentally, he squeezed.

Sephiroth's attention was duly recaptured. "Genes-" he cut himself off with a breathy sigh, and clutched more tightly at his shoulders.

It wasn't difficult to let Genesis pull him into another kiss, to sink back into the sensations.

"It's so _hard_ ," murmured Genesis, like he'd somehow not expected that. He rubbed Sephiroth's penis through the trousers, and Sephiroth felt his whole body shudder with it.

Sephiroth did not actually need to be told this. He could feel it. "Yes," he mumbled.

He felt like his brain had shorted out and proper speech was well beyond him. He clutched at Genesis's wide shoulders, unwilling to let go, and wormed closer. He could feel thick strands of hair coiling closer. There was almost no response when his hair was over their clothing, but as soon as it was pressing against Genesis's skin under his clothes, everything was sharp and much too intense, and he-

Genesis was squeezing him, moving slow and careful.

Sephiroth's mind went completely, blissfully blank.

He smelled amazing. Sephiroth buried his face in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply. He smelled _amazing_. He rubbed his jaw against Genesis's without thinking, making a low groan in his throat when all he got in response was long, strong fingers squeezing and rubbing the swell of his dick through his pants.

Suddenly everything was prickling skin and sweat and heat rolling up him. He clung tighter, blinking rapidly. Genesis was relentless, strong fingers, strong hands. He looked at Sephiroth through his eyelashes, like he'd never seen him before - and maybe he hadn't, at least not like this. Sephiroth was gasping, making low noises with every exhale, rolling his hips shamelessly.

He was surrounded by the smell of Genesis's sweat and it was all he could breathe, and his hair was tangled in Gensis's arms, beneath his clothes, wrapped around his ribs and binding him closer. With every movement, every shift and tug against his hair, a wave of heady bliss took him by surprise. It made him moan, loud and helpless, and fight to get closer to Genesis, to bind him, pull him in, crawl inside him and make him ache from the inside.

He rubbed against him, inhaled him, scraped his nails across his neck, his collarbone, down upon his skin. They caught in his clothes, tore a little, and then he slid his hand over Genesis's stomach, down, down, to feel the heavy swell of his cock through his clothing. He could feel the heat of it, fat and stiff, and made a deep noise of satisfaction in his throat.

Genesis broke away for a second just to stare at the hand sliding down his front. Anticipation coiled in his stomach and prickled along his skin. There was a sharp flash of sensation when Sephiroth dragged the flat of his palm across his cock, one that made him twitch and rock his hips forward.

Sephiroth made a smug, delighted noise and Genesis's eyes narrowed. He swore and shoved his hand down Sephiroth's pants, snapping the belt and tearing the fabric without even really paying attention.

"You're _wet_ ," he realised, fingers closing on his erection, and, oh wow, it was so wet and so hot, and he scraped his other hand through a handful of Sephiroth's hair and felt the swollen head of his penis leak more, harder. He was dripping, sweat and pre-ejaculate making everything terribly, terribly slick and wet and scorching. Sephiroth's voice broke on a gasp and dropped into a low rumbling groan.

He released his hair to pull the ripped fabric of Sephiroth's trousers away from his hips and shove it out of his way. The bare skin of Sephiroth's cock was velvety and hot under his fingers, not really that different from his own, but the feel of it under his hand made his knees weak and his mouth dry.

Genesis made a low, satisfied sound, because he curled his fingers around Sephiroth's penis and pulled, firm and sloppy with how much he was leaking, and Sephiroth _responded_. He was so sensitive to it, shaking and gasping. Sephiroth responded like he'd never even contemplated something that felt this good, like he was shocked and astonished and he didn't know how to process what was going on, but it was good and he needed it now. _Now_. His chest heaved with every breath, and his eyes were wide, pupils massive, and he was shifting his hips, rocking helplessly against Genesis's touch.

"Yes," he mumbled, and Genesis felt like his spine was melting just at the tone of his voice.

"Good?" he got out, watching avidly.

Sephiroth moaned obscenely in response, baring his neck and arching his spine, punctuated by the soft wet noises of their movements, of sweat and pre-ejaculate and the silky slide of Sephiroth's hair over their skin.

Holy shit.

Genesis swayed closer, pressing Sephiroth's bare chest to his as he leaned in enough, pulled his hair to direct him, bit his throat in that soft sensitive part beneath his jaw.

"Mmmngh," mumbled Sephiroth, eyelids fluttering. "Ohh."

Holy _shit_.

"Yes. _Yes_. Good. Genes..." his voice slurred, broken between hard gasps for breath. He grabbed at Genesis and pulled pieces of clothing out of his way - more tears in his clothes, not because he wanted to but because he was desperate and too strong, and wow they were going to wreck each other's entire wardrobes, that was _so hot_ \- put his hands on his skin like he needed to feel all of it, right then, scraping and scratching and _shaking_.

 _Sephiroth_ was shaking, trembling for Genesis.

The hair that wouldn't stop twining itself around them shifted silkily over their skin, and there was a rough, strangled sound from Sephiroth's throat. "Genesis," he managed brokenly, low and rough in a way that made Genesis shiver from head to toes. "Yes. _Yes_."

Genesis could see in his face when he actually came: his eyes glassed over and a hot flush across his cheekbones, eyebrows furrowed. His mouth dropped soundlessly open and his breath came in a hot rush against Genesis's jaw. He expected the tension in his muscles and the hot semen dribbling on his stomach and over Genesis's fingers, but not the sudden steely strength in his hair where it was wrapped around Genesis's limbs.

Sephiroth held onto Genesis like he thought he was going somewhere, all weirdly prehensile hair and sweaty bare skin.

Genesis was absolutely not going anywhere, at least in part because he was too busy staring at Sephiroth.

He was strange like this, strange and alien and almost sickeningly beautiful. He clutched at him with shaking hands and rubbed his face on him like some huge, possessive cat.

Genesis saw the moment when he realised that, yes, Genesis _did_ have a hard-on, and the expression that flickered across his face was completely surprised. Like maybe he'd expected that watching Sephiroth lose his mind and pant and whine and finally get off in his lap had somehow been _insufficient stimulation._ He wondered, briefly, if he was going to have to punch Sephiroth for being an idiot.

The surprise bled out just as quickly, though, and then Sephiroth was murmuring, "Oh, yes," and shoving Genesis back.

"Hey-!"

The hair tightened, everywhere, at the sound of his voice raised in inconvenient protest. Genesis's breath caught. His spine hit the floor without resistance, because he could hardly move. Sephiroth shredded what was left of his clothing - which had been a write-off, anyway - and buried his face, moaning, into Genesis's stomach.

"You smell _so good_ ," Sephiroth mumbled, breathing heavily again already. There was a long, silky brush of hair spilling over the hot crown of Genesis's cock and he shivered at the feel of it.

Sephiroth licked his stomach, like he could find and devour the taste of him, and his teeth scraped over Genesis's hipbone.

He made another of those low, groaning noises, burying his face in the crease of Genesis's thigh, and Genesis had a second to inhale hard and think, no, he wasn't going to -

Genesis squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden, overwhelming feeling of Sephiroth tonguing his penis. Oh. Oh _shit_. "Sephiroth," he managed, and he'd had something to actually say, but then all that happened was Sephiroth made an eager noise and shoved Genesis's cock in his mouth.

Genesis stared at the roof, wide-eyed, unable to move, and panted.

Sephiroth plainly had no idea what he was doing, because he was absolutely going to choke - but, of course, Sephiroth could hold his breath for like a million times as long as most people or something.

And it felt good, _so good_ , like Sephiroth was making up for evident inexperience with wild enthusiasm and an inexplicably absent gag reflex. The inside of his mouth, of his throat, was so hot and soft and he was sucking hard, like he was trying to actually suck an orgasm right out of him - and he'd be succeeding, Genesis thought stupidly.

His hands were everywhere, gripping and rubbing and scraping nails, and his hair was a huge shining swath of silk-light touches that wouldn't go away, and Genesis had no idea what the hell he was doing with his tongue but it was unreasonably hot. Genesis rolled his head back against the ground, arching and pushing. He needed to get free so he could touch him, but the hair keeping him still held him down with all of Sephiroth's overwhelming strength.

Sephiroth's tongue rubbed relentlessly. He swallowed hard and Genesis could feel all the muscles in his throat shifting and - ohhhh. Oh shit. Genesis closed his eyes and whined helplessly, rolling his body against the hair holding him down. So good. So -

Somebody was making loud, ecstatic noises and since Sephiroth had apparently decided he'd never need air again, it was probably Genesis. He was pretty sure that was him begging the Goddess for more, not to stop, harder, _yes, yes._

His vision went black at the edges when he came, but he could hear the broken noise he made.

Then he was staring at the ceiling with his eyes open, mind frozen and limbs shaking with effort - he'd been using his full strength trying to get free at the end there, he realised.

Sephiroth's hair was quieter now, not shifting so much or caging him, but it still seemed pretty attached. He glanced toward Sephiroth. His eyes were teary, chest heaving, face flushed and sweaty. There was come on his mouth.

He'd been thinking about something but it was gone now.

There should be some kind of law, Genesis thought idly.

"We have to do that again," Sephiroth told him seriously.

And. _Well_.

"Yeah," Genesis agreed, between breaths.

A pause.

"Bring Angeal," he added.

Sephiroth grunted in a way that Genesis chose to take as affirmative.

 _Yeah_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came about when I tried to write a short commentfic for [thriceandonce](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvaine/profile), but it ended up being too long for an AO3 comment. It's been hanging out on my tumblr for a while but I figured I'd just... fix some of the typos and add it to the fic, instead of linking to tumblr in the end note? 
> 
> Uh, so here: more Genesis/Sephiroth hair porn. 
> 
> Feat. a Kunsel cameo, a much abused briefing room and some more awkward POV shifting. And hair.

 

“Are you busy?” said Genesis into Sephiroth’s ear.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. He was in the middle of discussing supply with the Second Class – Kunsel, a SOLDIER he found reliable but gossipy and who probably would have been a Turk had circumstances allowed – on base communications duty. So yes, he was busy.

But he was _obviously_ busy.

He eyed Genesis.

Genesis smiled, and glanced at him up through his eyelashes.

Sephiroth wasn’t sure what that actually meant but the Second Class was looking at them with avid attention, torn between fascination and horror.

“…Yes.” Sephiroth said.

“I can wait,” Genesis said, and Sephiroth blinked once, slowly, and went back to asking Kunsel about ensuring each pair had confirmed access to cure materia.

Kunsel was looking between them.

Genesis waited semi-patiently for almost twenty seconds, and then he reached up and trailed his fingers through Sephiroth’s hair, combing it with his fingers so Sephiroth could feel the pressure of them over his coat as they drifted down his spine.

Sephiroth stopped talking mid-sentence, blindsided by a heady coil of sensation that rolled down his spine. His expression didn’t change – not in front of a subordinate, he was too straight-laced and buttoned up for that, but there was a tiny tremble in his breath.

Sephiroth looked at him.

Genesis raised his eyebrows and arranged his face into an innocent expression. “Yes?”

“…Nothing.” Sephiroth turned back to the communications officer. “With regard to the supply route, there’s been reports of at least one dragon, so the camp will require a significant increase in troops to–”

He stopped again, this time because Genesis was scraping his nails over the lower part of his scalp and down back of his neck.

“How busy, do you think?” he asked casually.

Sephiroth swayed on his feet.

“Soldier, do you think this is of immediate importance?” he asked Kunsel without ever looking at him.

Sephiroth’s eyes narrowed through a hazy fog of feeling. “Genesis–”

“No, sir. No it is not,” and then Kunsel was gone, powering down the corridor of the SOLDIER floor, away toward the materia room.

That was completely inappropriate. “Genesis.”

“Shh. I’ve been thinking,“ Genesis responded, pushing him toward the empty briefing room.

“About – about what?” Sephiroth asked. It seemed like too much to hope for that Genesis had been thinking _about work._

The door hissed closed behind them and Genesis swiped his ID card and set it to display the room was occupied by a meeting.

He shoved him gently toward the table there. There was a moment when Sephiroth might have resisted, but then Genesis wrapped his fingers around a thick rope of hair and tugged.

Sephiroth’s knees unhinged. He grabbed one of Genesis’s forearms for balance, and Genesis laughed lightly and pushed him one more time – his thighs hit the table and he leaned against it gratefully.

“The hair,” Genesis informed him, and then he used it to reel him in for a kiss. He shamelessly slipped his other hand under Sephiroth’s coat to slide it down the back of his pants, over the dip of his spine and down his backside. He paused there to rub and squeeze for a second, more for his own benefit than Sephiroth’s, because wow that was a fine ass.

It was also a fine handle to prevent any shifting, moving or escaping when he pulled his fingers from Sephiroth’s increasingly overeager hair and dragged them down the front of his trousers.

Sephiroth’s hands flew from the table to Genesis’s shoulders. He could see his throat move when he swallowed. Nice. “Genesis,” he said in a tone of warning.

The pants were too tight, even without the belt in the way, to get both his hands down, but he reluctantly drew the back hand up to the strong, firm curve of his waist. In its place, he slid the front one straight down until he could feel soft curling hair between his fingers.

Sephiroth breathed his name and it did not sound like a protest or a warning. In fact, his breath was shaking.

Which was _exactly_ what Genesis had thought.

He could feel Sephiroth’s cock stiffen, thick and fat with blood after a few moments, but it wasn’t stimulation to his cock that made him gasp and cling to Genesis’s coat.

“It does work with all your hair,” Genesis said triumphantly. “I _had_ wondered.”

Then he knocked one of Sephiroth’s legs aside and shoved him back, hard, until he was leaning well back on the table. “Lean back,” he demanded, “I want to see.”

Sephiroth’s gaze jumped up, over Genesis’s head, to – oh, for Gaia’s, sakes, to the security camera.

Genesis used the hand that wasn’t in his pants to pull Sephiroth’s head down to the right angle by his hair. It made his eyes wide and his face flush. “Eyes on _me_.”

Sephiroth swallowed. His lips were flushed from kissing, wet with saliva, and his pupils were broad ovals.

His gaze stayed on Genesis. It didn’t stray again.

Oh, yes. He could have _purred_.

He pulled Sephiroth’s trousers halfway down his thighs, which was enough to have him with his coat rucked up, buckles strained, and his cock laying flat and flushed against his belly, so pretty against all that dark leather.

Sephiroth was watching Genesis watch him and it looked like he was enjoying it a lot more than he’d expected. Genesis ran the pad of his thumb up the underside of Sephiroth’s penis, feeling the so-soft texture of the tender skin, the soft thump of his pulse close to the surface.

Sephiroth’s breath came out in a soft rush. His eyes were still on Genesis.

The temptation was to wrap his hands around it and make him yell, but that wasn’t really what Genesis was here for. Not today, anyway.

Instead he carefully tangled his fingers in the silvery hair curling at the base of his cock. Sephiroth’s response was immediate and dramatic: he went beautifully tense, eyes unfocused, and reached out to snatch weakly at Genesis’s coat.

After a moment, Genesis decided to allow this, and drew him up so Sephiroth could wrap his arms around Genesis’s shoulders.

From there it was easy. All protest, all thought of professionalism or security or whether or not there’d be a clip of them circulating through the Turks come evening seemed to have fled from Sephiroth’s awareness completely. Whatever sensitivity was in his hair was multiplied here, and every playful stroke or tangle made him jerk and whine. He was gasping in seconds, trying to crush Genesis’s hips with his knees, even with the stretched fabric of his pants shoved uncomfortably down his thighs.

“Come on,” Genesis encouraged, and he carded his fingers gently through his pubic hairs, listening for the sound he knew was coming – a hard, broken groan, followed by a clench of muscles and heavy breathing.

He glanced up, finding Sephiroth still staring at him, eyes wild. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were wet and glossy, and Genesis caught his mouth in a kiss, drawing his tongue into responding. He tugged gently, so gently, on the soft hair between his legs and swallowed Sephiroth’s sounds as he pushed him further and further – he pulled away from Genesis and seemed to be having trouble breathing. His chest heaved. His fingers clenched weakly in Genesis’s coat.

“Let go, come on,” he murmured quietly into Sephiroth’s ear, slipping his fingers gently, teasingly over the velvet-soft skin of his erection. Sephiroth was making small helpless noises on the edge of every outwards breath, and they only got more desperate as he went. Genesis took his time, feeling the swell and the pulse of his cock, the desperate heat, and then trailing his hand down, down again until he could rub his fingers through the hair there.

Sephiroth’s head fell to Genesis’s shoulder with a soft _thump_ , spilling hot semen over his hand and whining between his teeth when he came.

Genesis let him rest his face there, forehead pressed against his collar and breathing like a racehorse for a few moments.

“Well,” Genesis murmured, pushing his head off his shoulder and retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket to clean off his fingers. “That was easy.”

He smiled to take some of the bite out of it. He could be gracious once he’d gotten his way, after all.

Genesis dropped the handkerchief upon the table while Sephiroth struggled to catch his breath – and to remember that he was sitting with his pants around his thighs on the table in the SOLDIER briefing room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you liked particularly about this story? Use your Comment materia. :P

**Author's Note:**

> Things I did not consider until posting: Sephiroth has pubic hair. There's probably room in this absurd porny universe for somebody figuring out that they can card their fingers through it and get him off without even trying. I'm just saying. 
> 
> Anyway, this is my first FFVII fic, but I've got a couple others in the works from the prompts I received. There will very likely be more porn forthcoming, and at least one silly crack fic that features Gaia smacking the snooze button, rolling over and leaving Cloud in the lurch. 
> 
> If you liked anything about this fic in particular, please let me know with a comment. :)


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